What you alter in the remembering has yet a reality, known or not. - Cormac McCarthy

Saturday, July 30, 2005

. . . he'd been doing the stretch for over 25 years . . . well before the tensegrity magic passes of casteneda or grotowski's motions or the yoga class sun salutation . . . just a simple centering stretch . . . ruben, the slight argentinian with handlebar moustache and mischievous eyes taught him among many important lessons the stretch . . . died of aids a decade later in vienna . . . yet not his face that at times materialized in the doorway during intense work sessions and it was that face . . . the face he called godot which appeared at the window by his bed . . . lips imperceptively mouthing an unknown language . . .

. . . wait and watch . . . it'll dissolve into a fog of nothing . . . always does . . . not this time, coalesced into the eye of a hawk or some bird of prey . . . a cloud passed over blocking the sun darkening the room an eclipse of the . . . paolo was dead . . . partner, shadow, double, mentor whatever was . . . that's why the police had been there last night and she was calling and the face and . . . a certainty beyond intuition forced out an agonized moan: "No, it can't be." . . . the river . . . a drowning . . . I would examine the last moments days later entering his room . . . this morning nothing but complete emotional paralysis . . .